


To The Future Give Glory

by Maria_and_Aguilars_Codex_1492



Series: The Bloodlines We Carry [3]
Category: Assassin's Creed (2016) - Fandom, Assassin's Creed - All Media Types
Genre: Ancestor/Descendant Incest, Assassins and Templars vs Abstergo, Character Death, Death Rituals, Gang Violence, Genetic Disorders & Abnormalities, Multi, Neurological Disorders, Pieces of Eden, Psychological Trauma, Reincarnation, Resurrection, The Masyaf Brotherhood, The Spain Brotherhood, the Bleeding Effect
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2017-06-10
Updated: 2017-06-17
Packaged: 2018-11-12 10:35:23
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Major Character Death, Underage
Chapters: 4
Words: 6,240
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11160129
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Maria_and_Aguilars_Codex_1492/pseuds/Maria_and_Aguilars_Codex_1492
Summary: It is not to ourselves, but to the future give glory.Over the months following the assassination of Alan Rikkin, a wave of assaults have plagued Abstergo. Sophia Rikkin promised to get the Apple, promised to have her revenge, and with the Animus in tact she plans to use it to find the descendants instead of the ancestors.Meanwhile, the Subjects of Sophia Rikkin's Animus Program deal with the aftermath of their ordeal as they try to balance their dedication to the Brotherhood of Assassins and the Knights Templar Order.





	1. Templar Industries

_"In todays news: Cyber attacks continue to hit both Abstergo Industries and their branches such as the Abstergo Foundation. This coming just after the Abstergo Foundation claimed bankruptcy following a major failure of the pharmacutical end. Which is believed to be a result of the assassination on their CEO, Dr. Alan Rikkin, whose murder is still being investigated after months of no leads. In other news, Templar Industries opens a new headquarters in Dubai, where they hope to offer better and safer technology, medical services, and security services to the people of the Middle East."_

* * *

"You are responsible for this, you know...You should have killed de la Aguila and Lynch when you had the chance. Yet, here we are, suffering for your own creation." The scoff that echoed from her lips only felt like a slap across the face to the scientist.

Sophia Rikkin swallowed the lump that seemed persistant on forming before she dared to look up at Ellen Kaye. It was a miracle that she still had her head let alone her job, and perhaps that soon would come crumbling into decay and dust.

"I will admit that I have made my mistakes. I stopped my assault on them and now in only a few months they have created an Empire that is built to destroy us. I stopped with my research on the Shroud in hopes to gain the Apple back for the Elders and I have made no progress. I-"

A wrinkled, thin hand was raised, haulting the very air around them, leaving only a sour look upon the Elders face. Pursing her lips, Ellen leaned forward to brace herself against the wooden desk before her. "I do not wish to hear of your failures, my child. I want progress and I want Templar Industries to be destroyed. Bring me the Apple and kill every  _single_ one of those descendants."

Ellen Kaye was never a fan of Alan Rikkin and she had seen promise in his daughter, but ever since the assassination all of that progress has gone down the drain. Leaving nothing but dirt under her pristine nails and blood seeping into the fabric of her suits. It truly was a shame that such a course of action would have to take place, but options were sadly limited these days. Ellen had marvelled as people who are no more than legally dead lab rats built an empire of an industry. Placing their headcourters in England, France, Spain, South Africa, the Middle East, Germany, China, the Caribbeans, and Egypt. It was a rather bold move on their part, but they knew how to build upon excellent ground without creating a large enough stir to warrant action with any investigators.

Clicking her pen open, Ellen signed her name upon the thick white document. Watching intently as the ink spread. The elder expects progress and if reopening the Animus Program can give that than so be it.

* * *

"Of course, your exellency."

* * *

Adjusting the white cuff of her blouse, Valeria de la Aguila overlooked the current construction taking place within the city of Dubai. The yellow hard hat did little to keep out the sunlight, but it helped enough to where she could over see these proceedings. Workers moved through the building, some using machinery, whilst others moved to set up the metal frame. 

It was oddly peaceful in a way, if you could stand to be around the loud sounds of construction taking place all around you. 

 

"I hope you don't plan on staying here all day."

Callum Lynch looked off without his black assassins robes  _or_ the standard blue clothing worn by test subjects. The only thing that remained the same was the scruff of his beard that he refused to trim.

The French woman was not going to lie about him not looking too bad while dressed in a suit either. The dark grey suit was form fitting and matched very well with his vest and tie. The collar and cuffs of his white dress shirt were tight and orderly, and were just as pristine as the black shoes upon his feet that seemed to shine against the dirt and sand.

"I never knew that you could dress up so well." Valeria teased back, handing off her clipboard, before crossing out of the building and into the streets. "I suppose you have come to drag me away from my project?"

Cal hummed in response as his fingers trailed up the black cloth of her suit. "I was thinking that you should join me on my next assassination."

The statement came off as more of a question, but Valeria did not wish to turn him down on that offer. The last assassination they had done as a Brotherhood was after their trip to the Greasy Spoon Café. Since then they have split off to do their own thing for Templar Industries by day and the Assassin's Brotherhood at night.

"Does that include having dinner?" She questioned, wrapping her arm into his, as a notion for them to take a walk. Blue-green eyes peaked down at her with a small hint of amusement. "Why it does. A dinner before we become fugitives again." Cal added, although the joke behind it only seemed to fade away with reality. Even with Templar Industries being public in Europe, Abstergo was still intent on hunting them down. The only thing that was in their favor was the cyber attacks and raids which was done by the Rooks. 

* * *

As they continued to walk along the streets, Valeria almost wished to ask him how doing this must feel. Such things that were so normal were things that Aguilar and Maria never could have done.  _Aguilar and Maria._

* * *

 

All that remained was their memories of a life that has been gone for centuries. Of the sun, the heat, the blue sky, the very elements of Spain, of  _home._ The moments when they had trained together in the deserts of Andalucia. The nights when the Brotherhood would get together to feast before a long mission against the Inquisitors and the Templars. The days when they would run through the streets with the very promise of death following close behind. In a way, she missed what was  _before_ , she missed Aguilar, she missed the Brotherhood, she missed her daughter who unlike Lara didn't get a chance at life. Yet, she knew that she would miss this once the cycle repeated once again. She would miss Callum Lynch and the weeks that they had spent on the run. She would miss this very walk, and the cycle would just continue on.

"So, should I ask who I'll be killing or is it a surprise?"

Callum paused, jerking her back from their walk, his face controting into one of seriousness. He looked around before meeting her gaze once again as if someone would be listening in one them.

* * *

"Sophia Rikkin."

* * *

When he awoke the first thing that settled over him was confusion. The room was a blinding white, with everything in it sterilized until the very smell of anti-bacterial spray seemed to fill the air in thick clouds.

Was this a hospital?

Why would they have even taken him to one if it just meant a possible breach in security.

Getting up on shaking legs, he tried to walk towards the glass door, but a sharp tug seemed to pull against the skin of his arm. Attatched to his forearm was a needle, pumping in some form of clear fluid that he doubted was water. It was gross to look at, but the tone of his skin didn't exactly look well when conpared to the light blue clothing he had been placed in.

Pulling the needle out in disgust he alnost wanted to cry out at the pain that seemed to spread from beneath his skin.  _His skin._ It looked glossed over as a burn victims would and he would be telling a lie if he said that he should still  _have_ his arm in proper shape. The last memories he had seemed to prove to him that he shouldn't even be here.

With as much strength as he could muster he pushed open the double glass doors that lead into a hallway. The hall was a simply grey in color, and rows of identical glass double doors seemed to follow straight down until the end.

Standing at the end was a woman dressed in a pure white suit, stationed between two guards dressed in black, both standing like statues until he noticed  _it._

Behind them was a triangle basked in a blinding white light:  _Abstergo_

* * *

"My name is Doctor Sophia Rikkin and I am here to help you. Just as you are here to help me, Desmond."

_"Fucking shit."_

 

 

 

 


	2. Resurrection

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Desmond didn't like this-any of it-not when Sophia Rikkin is reaching the Vidic level of creepy.

There was one thing that Desmond was absolutely sure of: Sophia Rikkin was starting to get right on up there with Vidic for worst Abstergo employee. 

He had never heard of her before-not even from his _father_ -which truly said something. The name Rikkin was a surname that Shaun had come across a few times, but whenever the historian spoke Desmond tended to zone out. Which was now coming back to haunt him as two guards dragged him into what looked like a destroyes research room that was in the middle of spring cleaning. Glass panals were broken, and papers were scattered across the floor. It looked as if someone had taken everything important out just to scatter what remained. 

As the two guards forced him to sit in a grey metal chair, Desmond almost wanted to call them out, question them about what Abstergo wanted from him, but the gaze from Dr. Rikkin silenced him. 

 

 _Definitely creepier than_ Vidic, Desmond thought, _and that says something._

 

As the pale woman pulled out a clipboard, Desmond leaned back against his seat. His anxiety nipped at him like a hound chasing after a fox. It made all of the times he had spent in Abstergo come crashing back against his mind. Flashes of blonde hair and white walls came across his vision before fadding away to the image of a woman looking down upon him with something akin to pity.

"I am sorry for doing this to you, Desmond, but I am in a tight position at the moment."

Her tone was soft and _vain_ , blending in against the sounds of the city that they were in. 

 

"Where am I?" Desmond questioned, hands gripping the metal handle of his chair. Sophia tilted her head, contemplation crossing her features as if she had done this before.

"You are in the remains of the Abstergo Foundation in Madrid. A private organization dedicated to the preservation of human kind. I must apologize, however, for the shape that this facility is in. We had an incident that we still haven't cleaned up." She answered, mimicing a voice recorder in his opinion. Although he doubted that his opinion would matter to her.

Snapping the cap of an ink pen, Sophia began to write down against the paper on the clipboard, sounding just as obnoxious as Vidic had.  It was laughable, he had sacrificed his very life just to end up in Abstergo again. 

"What do you want from me? Besides the obvious reasons, of course."

She smirked at that, lips pulling up to reveal teeth that seemed to be as white as the suit that she wore.

"I needed to see the effects that the Shroud of Eden had on a corpse. When we first tried to resurrect you it failed, but  _this_ is the miracle that we have been waiting for. A break through for what is to come."

 

 _Resurrection,_ it seemed like a sick joke, one that he wouldn't even wish upon Shaun, but this was Abstergo. It sent a bitter taste into his mouth and a sense of dread down his spine. How long has it been? Where was Shaun and Rebecca and his father? The questions only seemed to cause a ping of pain to form from within his mind. Wavering his vision as he suddenly felt as if he needed to puke. 

 

As his body fell over, onto the smooth concrete ground, Desmond only saw two things: Sophia Rikkin and the old second Animus sitting behind her in the corner of the room.

* * *

_"We're going to do great things together."_

* * *

_**Cairo, Egypt** _

_**Templar Industries Facility L10092A5** _

 

Khalid Abdalla was an activist at heart and that was where it all began for him.

He filmed a documentary about the 2011 revolution, actually documenting the same uprising and its troubled aftermath that reflected across Egypt. These anti-government protest needed to be shown, as well as the treatment of women within the country. It was these moments of free will, of people demanding things that others would presume as basic human rights, that drew him in.

Then he had caught the attention of the Assassins, or rather his bloodline did, and as a british-egyptian with the simple wish to be an activist you can imagine his surprise. 

His DNA matched perfectly with that of Muhammad XII of Granada. A sultan who has been dead for over five hundred years, yet these hooded people were speaking of him as if he  _was_ his ancestor. 

He didn't necessarily trust any of them at first, but then they showed him the documents. Decades of people plucked from their homes and the streets by Abstergo Industries all in the name of science. All in hopes that the deaths of their families, and on more than on occasion  _themselves_ , would lead to a possible cure for humanity itself.

_It was sickening._

 

Then the memories came back to him, memories that were of another life, his ancestors life, yet it felt as if they belonged to  _him._ Ranging from the political struggles between monarchies and those who were ruled by other means to religious persecution and the deaths that followed. It made him have nightmares that only seemed to worsen upon the danger that his son was being placed in, a son that was not his own, but the Sultans. His only source of solace came from the very ones who used to fight over such things.

Khalid trusted Callum and Valeria, even if the two Assassins were rather intimidating when dressed in their black robes and weapons. Yet, it was McGowen that he still had a hard time trusting, even if he didn't possess the heterochromia that his ancestor had. The mans gaze still sent a chill down his spine, that of which prey receives when they meet the eyes of a predator.

 

All of these moments and  _memories_ and  _people_ created a path for which he now walked upon. 

 

The sword of his ancestor is attached to his back instead of being a familiar weight upon his hips.

The black robes of the Assassin Brotherhood still feel odd to him, even when the red cloth and leather bindings that cling around his waist brings an odd form of comfort, it still feels  _off_. Just as wearing the symbol of the Assassins and the Cross of the Knights Templar doesn't seem quite right, because deep down he knows it is.

His ancestor was no Assassin, no Templar, he was just a Sultan trying to protect his son and his people and Khalid understands that. 

He  _embraces_ that.

 

As he pulls the black hood over his head, followed by the black bandana bearing the Templar's cross over his nose and mouth, Khalid looks down upon the warehouse. Bright lights shine down upon a guarded door, but he will not be filming these things as he had done as an activist. He will bear a sword upon these men if it means getting closer to their target.

 

Breathing in deeply, he steps towards the edge, and leans his arm back.

 

The Leap of Faith sends him into the gravel and sand below, and as such, he pulls the sword from him and slices into the first guards stomach. Blood splatters against the ground before the other guard moves to attack. His movements are slacked, from what he can only presume is from a past injury, and like a cobra stricking down upon its prey the guard ends up within his arms.

Impalling himself onto the sharp cool metal, the guard let out a whimper of pain before his body collapsed.

 

Taking the keycard from the guards pocket, he unlocks the door and slips into the facility. There are no more guards, no technicians or other employees, just empty rooms upon empty rooms, and it takes time before he finds what they have been looking for.

A computer server that carries an email from Sophia Rikkin, detailing her latest project, to the doctors who were supposed to reside within the facility.

Taking out his phone, he speed dials the Brotherhood onto a group call, they needed to hear about this.

_To: Abstergo Industries, Cairo_

_From: Abstergo Foundation, Madrid_

_Subject: Test Subject 17_

_Our first resurrection was a success._

* * *

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> -Poor Desmond. He is about to have a hard time.
> 
> I hope you all enjoyed the chapter!


	3. Brands Upon Flesh

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This chapter is a filler, a flashback to be exact. It contains mentions of Past Callum Lynch/Sophia Rikkin with brief Valeria de la Aguila/Sophia Rikkin.

Sophia Rikkin doesn't know when this began _-not really_ -and perhaps it has been there all along.

 

The office is pure white, everything slick and modernized to the latest technology. Nothing out of place amongst Abstergo accept for _her_. 

 

The tall woman is dressed in a suit the color of obsidian, that fits to every curve upon her body. Curls that are just as dark are braided back in a crown before being pulled into a bun, lips a deep crimson, eyes a vivid blue, all standing out against her skark pale skin.

 

Sophia doesn't know that she is starring until the woman across from her smiles, a smile of a shark, that could only match up to Callum Lynch's own smile.  _Cal_. She misses him, she had longed for him, yet they share a bloodline. A bloodline that ruins any form of a future that they could have had together, and perhaps that is why he sends this woman. For she is a mockery of what Sophia could have been. The descendant of Maria, someone that Aguilar had loved, her own ancestor.

 

Sophia averts her gaze, face just as unreadable as always before she decides to ask the question of fate itself. 

 

"Are you here to kill me?"

The question isn't subtle, but they are not ones for being subtle now are they? Driving motorcycles through the streets of London with a man that they had abducted. Creating a fight in the streets, assualting an officer, just to do so. Attacking an Abstergo company car in broad day light. They are rash, and they were new in the modernized world, and she should have  _taken_ the woman from Lynch that day. Given her as a prize and a tie of loyalty to McGowen, because if there was one thing that Sophia knew it was that Ojeda didn't work for Torquemada for nothing...no he wanted something, he wanted  _Maria_ and he wanted  _Aguilar_ who would inevitably be the reason for his death.

 

But Sophia cannot deny the mere fantasy of keeping the french woman for herself. Giving her the new life that she had once promised all those years ago. Yet this woman would not go swiftly into an undying light. Malik Al-Sayf wouldn't. Maria de Al-Andalucia wouldn't. Elise de la Serre wouldn't. The Fryes wouldn't. And descendants just had to follow in their ancestors steps.

Valéria's smile falls into a grin, deep crimson lips spreading across white teeth. "I am not here to kill you. I am here to tell you that Templar Industries is going to destroy you just as death destroys worlds."

 

Her vivid blue eyes seem to glow from the black kohl that marks her eyes, her gaze towards the crisp white wall, and Sophia almost  _wonders_ how her test subjects are fairing. Spending months without going into the Animus after  _years_ of being inside the Animus must have some effect. They cannot be adapting with crossing through the neurological issues that normal people do not face.

 

Sophia pulls away from that thought, she doesn't need to be a scientist,  _not anymore._ Pursing her lips, Sophia leans back into the white chair. "You mean the silly way that you Assassins are trying to combat against us?" It is a provoction, one that demands a reaction, and Valéria gives one. Her head turns just as sharply as an eagles would, a golden glow forming above the blue of her eyes,  _an eagle of Masyaf_.

 

"I am simply doing what the Templars would have instead of  _playing_ as one. Templar Industries provides security, technology, and medical inhancements towards those who cannot do it themselves. We are stopping the senseless killing of endangered animals, ensuring the rights of women and all humans, something we  _surely_ disagee with."

 

Sophia scoffs, wanting nothing more than to stop the woman from speaking, and those lips are  _tempting._ "I think I would have enjoyed this vist far more if you had come to kill me." She admits, and the woman before her answers. There is a dagger in her hand, long and sharp, with a black handle and a black  _cross._

 

"Do you know what this is? It is Ojeda's dagger. The one that Maria killed herself with." 

 

Pale fingers dance across the metal, and Sophia remembers that day,  _that Animus session._ It felt as if she had been in Aguilar's place that day, tears had formed in her eyes, and Callum's reaction was no different. Perhaps that was because of their bloodline that she had felt that or perhaps she simply didn't want Maria to die. Didn't want Valéria to  _feel_ Maria die.

 

"Yes. I know." She says, swallowing a lump that she had not known that she had.

 

In a flash Valéria has her pinned, back bent over the clear glass of her desk, dagger pressing into her neck. Sophia is almost astonished as to how the woman managed to do that, but then this dark angel is standing over her like the rafiq that her ancestor had been. The queen, the noblewoman, the leader of a syndicate. 

 

It leaves her breathless and oddly enough- _aroused._

 

The woman before her tsk, dragging the blade down, vivid blue eyes following as her white silk blouse is torn in two. It leaves Sophia wanting-no  _needing_ -something else. Something  _more._

 

Valéria leans down, face inches above Sophia's own, and as her gaze falls onto Sophia her tongue slips to lick her upper lip. It is a natural reaction as Sophia tries to repress her own, but as soon as Sophia pulls away from rational thought Valéria has pulled away from her.

 

Another smile crosses the french womans face before she walks away. Leaving Sophia spread across her desk with a torn blouse. 

 

_I should have killed her..._

* * *

* * *

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> -This contained my personal headcanon as to why Ojeda didn't want to kill Maria(at least in the novelization) and as to why he spared Aguilar's life.
> 
> Tell me what you guys think! Next chapter is going to continue on with the story.


	4. Regressions of the Past

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Desmond deals with being inside Abstergo once again as Sophia begins his first regression.  
> ////  
> Callum speaks with Aguilar about both of their past.

Desmond is terrified.

The feeling of dread and anxiety fills him until he almost wishes to scream, and it is all because of  _this._

It's Sophia Rikkin and her fucking ghost town of a facility.

The Abstergo Foundation, in Madrid, is a huge complex with doors that are electroniclly opperated. So far he has seen the common room; a large area filled with lunch tables, two basket ball courts, four open spaces with chairs and mats, and a rather large garden. He can only imagine that all of thid was for a large amount of people, people being kept for what must have been a very long period of time. 

Then there is the Garden of Eden, or at least that is what is labelled beside the entrance. The room is above the commons, with a wall opening up to show the city, and it is oddly enough filled with trees and waist length grass. Birds chirp from above and when Desmond looks at the ceiling all he can see is over a dozen eagles flying in a constant loop. 

It almost makes him pitty those who once were trapped here. And then he remembers that no one is here and he feels sick again.

Sophia doesn't tell him about any past test subjects. She doesn't tell him of how many people must have lived here until the end of their life. All she tells him is that he is important to her and her lifes work and all he wants to say back is _fuck your lifes work._ Because Desmond has seen the common area, and he has seen how many cells that are here, and he  _knows_ that all of these descendants must be dead. 

 

At the end of the day, Sophia takes him to an empty cell room that isn't filled with blood or glass, and she shows him to the bed. It is a sickening mirror to when his mom used to tuck him in at night after a bad day at the farm. And if he is showing his displeasure in the act the woman must be ignoring him then. 

"Tomorrow, we begin your regression. Sleep well Desmond." She says, and with that Desmond is left alone in his new cell that onced housed someone else. Someone who was used up just to die. 

 

_He cries himself to sleep._

* * *

 

Callum can't sleep, not in the heat of the middle east, so he simply stares at the ceiling of their hotel room. Laying beside him is a sleepy Valéria; her mop of black curls covers her face, a face that seems almost peaceful, and Cal can't help the feeling of déjà vu that over comes him. He didn't spend much time in the Animus, but he can't help but to wonder how many nights Aguilar must have stayed up watching Maria. 

"It wasn't like that." The rough voice of Aguilar says, and Cal tries to overlook the fact that his ancestor is speaking english. Heavily accented but english nonetheless.

Cal pulls his gaze away from his partner and towards his ancestor, his past. Aguilar sits in a wooden chair by the window; the light from the streets reflecting in on him. He seems relaxed, but he can tell that Aguilar is still on guard. Watching for any sign of trouble. Cal waits, licks his dry lips, before he finds his words.

"Then how was it? You and Maria." From what Cal had seen, from what he had experienced with Valéria, the two had been close partners. Always having the others back, sharing a strong bond that went past that of a mentor and their student. And from Sophia's timeline of his bloodline the two did have a daughter together at some point before their involvement with the Prince of Granada. 

"I was mourning the loss of my parents and my wife, and I had made a choice that no father wishes to make. I had just given away my son to nomads heading north when I met Maria. I had recognized her from when the Assassins had come to Nerha to drive the Templars and Inquisitors out. She had fought against Ojeda, and in my mourning and anger I begged for her to take me to the Assassins." Aguilar explained. There was a certain sorrow in his tone, and Cal wondered how Aguilar looked upon his memories when everyone within them are gone.

Continuing, Aguilar took a breath that Cal was sure he had no use for. "The Brotherhood rejected me. They said that I would only do this for revenge, that I would not uphold their Creed and their tennants...I stayed away for some time, but I continued to seek out Maria. Eventually, she almost killed me for it, but she heard me out. She took me to the Brotherhood and...she became my mentor. For years we remained like that; as a novice and their mentor, but over time my feelings for her out grew that. I cared for her deeply and after loosing so much in my life I never wanted to lose anyone close to my heart ever again."

"But you did." 

Cal regrets it, wants to bite his tongue off, because he  _knows_ of Aguilar's regret. 

Eyes that are so much like his own meet his and Cal feels as if a train hit him. "I-I'm sorry." It is an apology. A terrible one but Aguilar seems to back down. His posture relaxes, the train that had been hitting his mind eases off, and Cal lets out a shakey breath. Aguilar's brown eyes are the only thing that remains stern, "I've told you my past, however unbearable it may be. You need to do the same, Cal. Remember back at the Café, with Lara."

The latter is added in a softer tone, and it almost reminds him of the social worker he had once had as a child. 

He remembers that day-the day that he first learned of Eagle vision-though he doubts that  _that_ is what Aguilar wants him to remember. No, he already knows, and Aguilar does as well. "When she asked you if you remembered what your mother looked like you said sometimes." Aguilar states in a calm voice that pulls Cal in like the tide of the ocean. He can't deny that. His lack of memory towards his childhood was nothing more than a repressed state to hide him from that pain.

"I remember her as how she was when I found her dead. Anything before then-all I ever remember doing is surviving. I lived on the streets and then when I was found I was placed in foster homes. Crime soon followed when I became a teen, and I tried cleaning myself up.  _I really did_ , but college was more stressful and-and then I saw what those pimps were doing to those girls." Cal chokes up. Feels his eyes burn, his throat tighten, at the memory of that night. 

There was only one bar in the sleazy part of Huntsville that he was living in. Beer was beer, and after a long night of studying Cal wanted a break. The bar was the first place on his mind and when he went there he saw them. Young girls, someones  _daughters_ , were being paraded around as property. Their makeup was smeared from tears, the little clothing they wore torn, and when Cal had seen the  _blood._ Prostitution was not a new sight, but this made him feel sick. It made him remember his own mother, and the next thing he knew he was standing above a dead body.

The pimps death sealed his own, but those girls were  _free._ No more abuse or waking up on the side of a cold street. 

"Cal."

He can feel a stern, rough hand press against his collar bone. Squeezing his shoulder. "It's ok to remember your past. No matter how painful it may be you can't destroy it."

Callum doesn't look up, he simply lays back down into the sheets on the bed, before placing his hand on top of his ancestors. "I know." Silence overtakes the room afterwards, and Cal isn't sure how many minutes have passed before he speaks up again. "Do you think that Valéria and Maria speak to each other as we do? About-things like this."

"Yes, but Maria was always the level headed one. They probably do not bicker like we do when one has insomnia."

* * *

"I don't have insomnia."

"Your sleeping patterns say otherwise."

"You're such an ass."

"But I am your ass."

"And Maria's ass."

"Don't forget Val."

"But seriously for a man born during the times of saints your a real fucking asshole; even if your somewhat helpful."

"I'll take that as a compliment. Now go to sleep before I make you."

* * *

 When Desmond awakens in the morning it is by two Abstergo employees dressed in identical pure white uniforms. They grab a hold of him roughly before dragging him out of his cell and down the maze of halls. 

His eyes burn-whether from lack of sleep or tears is unknown-but the blinding lights of Abstergo doesn't help. And it just seemed to worsen once the doors of a room opened to reveal dim lighting. The shifts in vision hurt, but he knows that he needs to know his location.

Trying to gain a sense of his surroundings he quickly looked around the room trying to keep his gaze from Sophia Rikkins'. He knew she was there, somewhere within the room, otherwise he wouldn't be here.

The room was dimly lit with blue lighting, that shone down on what appeared to be the remains of glass cases, and in the far back there was a machine. A large machine hanging down from above what looked to be some form of a very large computer chip laying within what could only be presumed as water. If it wasn't for the golden lighting shinning up on a muralled dome above he probably would have missed it. Then finally there was Sophia, and behind Sophia were technicians looking on as he was dragged into the center of the room. 

 

The two orderlies strapped on something around his waist, something that had locked on.

_What is this?_

"Are the blades prepared?" Sophia asked and a man dressed in all white replied from a nearby case that seemed new against the others. "Right here." He told her opening it up. Before he took out two cuff like objects. "And we've confirmed their provenance?" Sophia said, as if to make sure that there would be no failure. "They belonged to Marishka, recovered at her burial site." The man told her, again, before handing them off. Desmond studied the hidden blades, belonging to whoever Marishka had been, but this is the Animus. Marishka must be one of his ancestors.

 

"Assume final preparations. Our regression, Andalucia, 1258. Record everything." Sophia stated loudly. Technicians turned machines on, and from above Desmond could see an observation chamber.

Machines whirred, lighting up surrounding boards in light blue light. "Arms ready " A voice called, and from above a machine began to move. He watched as it unwounded itself from a glass dome above, coming down to hook itself onto the heavy belt around his waist. "What is this?" Desmond asked, the feeling of panic rising in his tone.

He wished that he had stayed dead, because the panic, the small twitch that kept him alive in dangerous moments told him that death would have been better than whatever it is that he is about to experience. "I'm sorry, Desmond, but we need these memories." 

 

"Insert epidural." Sophia commanded, and in that moment all Desmond could do was scream. He could feel it hook into his fleah, latching on, before a long, thick needle shot out and into the direct center between his head and his neck. Pain spread through his head feeling as if he had been shot and then ran over by a train if you could even begin to compare it to something. This was nothing like his first Animus experience with Vidic, or the countless ones with Rebecca. 

 

"Listen to me carefully, Desmond." Sophia's tone became softer as she began to back away from him, a small smile beginning to appear onto her features. "You're about to enter the Animus. What you're about to see, hear and feel are the memories of someone who's been dead for over 700 years." She explained, her tone falling into the one he had first heard when he woke up. This wasn't the first time she has said those words..."Wait a minute!" He protested as the arm shot up, lifting him from the ground. "You can't change what happens, Desmond. You're no different from the others in that reguard." She said louder, as the machine below the domed mural began to lower into the glowing blue liquid, connecting itself into a large green machine. "Engage scanner." A female voice commanded. Panting, Desmond looked down at everything, as the arm seemed to level itself out. "Status?" Sophia questioned, and another technician responded. "Scanning DNA chains. Searching for time frames." 

 

The lights surrounding him, connected to the main dome, began to shift, turning themselves on to cast a golden light on everything that was in the center if the room. "First memory match locked. DNA match identified." A man said as the sound of more switches flipping and the lights shifting hit his ears. "Stay with it, Desmond." Sophia said from below him over all of the sound and then something appeared blocking out all of the sound and surroundings from him.

A black, mist-like appearation appeared through the blue and yellow lighting, floating towards him like ink placed in water. "Attempt synchronization." Sophia commanded to her technicians. Desmond felt this feeling overtake him, as more of the black mist came from him, moving out to circle around him. Sounds-voices-all different and muffled filled the air as more of it was seemingly pulled from him.

"We found her." A technician stated, and Desmond released his ancestors hidden blades.

"Synchronization achieved." Desmond heard, before all of the black mist went back into his body, but it didn't feel like before. It all settled into the back of his mind, all but one, as the last filled him. Running through what felt like every inch of his body and mind. The feeling was overwhelming, as if he wasn't alone, or rather he was what he used to be. "There." Sophia stated, the sound of his own heartbeat reaching his ears as he opened his eyes.

 

"Commence regression." 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> -I gave Desmond a female ancestor. Don't worry though, because she will only be with him during his first regression. Then we get into his canon ancestors. Which means that we get them as lovely Animus 4.5 Bleeding Effects (poor Desmond though).
> 
> -The Dadguilar was strong in this one. 
> 
> I hope you all enjoyed the chapter!


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